Joseph Grego

Thackeray's last visit to the Charterhouse—College days—Pendennis at Cambridge—Sketches of University worthies—Sporting subjects—Etchings at Cambridge—Pencillings in old authors—Pictorial Puns—'The Snob,' a Literary and Scientific Journal—'Timbuctoo,' a prize poem.

In Thackeray's schooldays the Charterhouse enjoyed considerable reputation under the head-mastership of Dr. Russell, whose death happened in the same year as that of his illustrious pupil. No one who has read Thackeray's novels can fail to know the kind of life he led here. He has continually described his experiences at this celebrated school—with the venerable archway into Charterhouse Square, which still preserves an interesting token of the old monkish character of the neighbourhood. Only a fortnight before his death he was there again, as was his custom, on the anniversary of the death of Thomas Sutton, the munificent founder of the school. 'He was there,' says one who has described the scene, 'in his usual back seat in the quaint old chapel. He went thence to the oration in the Governor's room; and as he walked up to the orator with his contribution, was received with such hearty applause as only Carthusians can give to one who has immortalised their school. At the banquet afterwards he sat at the side of his old friend and artist-associate in "Punch," John Leech; and in a humorous speech proposed, as a toast, the noble foundation which he had adorned by his literary fame, and made popular in his works.' 'Divine service,' says another describer of this scene, for ever memorable as the last appearance of Thackeray in public life, 'took place at four o'clock, in the quaint old chapel; and the appearance of the brethren in their black gowns, of the old stained glass and carving in the chapel, of the tomb of Sutton, could hardly fail to give a peculiar and interesting character to the service. Prayers were said by the Rev. J. J. Halcombe, the reader of the house. There was only the usual parochial chanting of the Nunc Dimittis; the familiar Commemoration-day psalms, cxxii. and c., were sung after the third collect and before the sermon; and before the general thanksgiving the old prayer was offered up expressive of thankfulness to God for the bounty of Thomas Sutton, and of hope that all who enjoy it might make a right use of it. The sermon was preached by the Rev. Henry Earle Tweed, late Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford, who prefaced it with the "Bidding Prayer," in which he desired the congregation to pray generally for all public schools and colleges, and particularly for the welfare of the house "founded by Thomas Sutton for the support of age and the education of youth."'

First Term

From Charterhouse School Thackeray went to Trinity College, Cambridge, about 1828, the year of his leaving the Charterhouse, and among his fellow-students there had Mr. John Mitchell Kemble, the great Anglo-Saxon scholar, and Mr. Tennyson. With the latter—then unknown as a poet—he formed an acquaintance which he maintained to the last, and no reader of the Poet Laureate had a more earnest admiration for his productions than his old Cambridge associate, Thackeray. At college, Thackeray kept seven or eight terms, but took no degree; though he was studious, and his love of classical literature is apparent in most of his writings, either in his occasional apt two words from Horace, or in the quaint and humorous adoption of Latin idioms in which, in his sportive moods, he sometimes indulged. A recent writer tells us that his knowledge of the classics—of Horace at least—was amply sufficient to procure him an honourable place in the 'previous examination.'

To the reader who would gain an insight into Thackeray's doings at Cambridge, we say, 'Glance through the veracious pages in which he records the University career of Mr. Arthur Pendennis; you will there at least seize the spirit of his own college days, if perchance you do not find the facts of the author's own residence circumstantially stated. Take his studies, for example.'

Pen's circumstances, tastes, and disposition generally, presuming the resemblance to be merely accidental, present a tolerably faithful reflection of those of his biographer at this period.

University Characters

The entire narrative occupies but scant space; and the chronicler premises that he shall not describe his hero's academical career very minutely. He is reticent, for he candidly declares that this portion of a man's life does not bear telling without certain reservations.

Riding, tandem-driving, and four-in-hands enjoyed in those days the patronage more largely transferred by the present generation to boating, cricket, billiards, &c. It was probably at the University that Thackeray began to take an interest in equestrianism: he made numberless pictures of horses; indeed, he never hesitated to draw them in every attitude. There is a certain rude fitness and grotesque vigour about the animals which he sketched at the period of life we are describing; but his skill in this respect certainly advanced with practice, and the horses he had occasion to introduce into his cuts when his fun was at its height—such, for example, as the burlesque illustrations which we find scattered about the inimitable pages of Mr. Punch—were really very original and spirited; although perhaps they are barely the steeds which would be selected by timid riders, but are rather the tremendous creatures which occur to the imagination.

It is possible that Thackeray's bill to his livery stable keeper kept pace with his other expenses; but his experience in this respect was not fruitless. When he had occasion to mix with the world, and especially while studying society abroad, it embittered his judgment against the University to realise how little return, beyond that indefinite and somewhat bumptious quality known as 'tone,' he had really obtained in return for the expenses of a college career. The youth of the Continent, with whom he had the fortune to associate for some time, made him conscious, by their own accomplishments, of those parts of a gentleman's education which are ignored at our Universities, and which form, it must be confessed, the standard by which men are chiefly measured beyond the college walls. His early papers in 'Fraser,' and especially those supposed to be contributed by the respectable Fitz-Boodle, drawing upon the experiences he had gained while sojourning amidst the society of the minor German principalities, speak the truth on these short-comings in a manner both forcible and unflinching.

Besides his fancy for etching plates of horses and men of ultra and parodied fashion, for designing plates of the modern rake's progress at the Universities, and punning cuts, we may assume that Thackeray shared with his ideal Pendennis most of those tastes indulged by lucky youths when life is opening, and reflection does not trouble them. Like his hero, he enjoyed a fine amateur perception for rare editions, and had a fancy for the glories of costly bindings: we are told that the tall copies, the gilding, marbling, and blind-tooling put on his book-shelves were marvellous to behold. The same just appreciation of true art which, later on, directed Thackeray's criticisms of the picture galleries, taught Pen to despise the tawdry and meretricious pictures of horses and opera dancers which often captivate the judgment of fledglings, and gifted him with a love for fine prints, for Rembrandt etchings, line-engravings after Strange, and Wilkie's before the letter; with which he hung his rooms, to the admiration of those who were capable of understanding his good taste. His mind did not despise the allurements of dress; and Pen was elaborately attired. It was a repeated axiom of Thackeray's, that it was good for a youth at one period to indulge in this vanity of fine apparel as a preliminary stage to more developed ambitions of standing well with the world.

It will be recollected that eventually Pendennis was plucked; and a feeling, in some degree morose, and unequivocally indignant, seems to have taken possession of Thackeray's mind whenever he dwells on the college careers of the creations of his fancy. In the 'Shabby Genteel Story,' which he first gave to the world in the columns of 'Fraser' (1840), he lashes the system for the defects of the individuals who may have been perverted by its more injurious influences; nor does he credit the Universities with conferring any solid advantages. He enquires, somewhat vengefully, the amount of ruin that has been inflicted by the temptations to which youths are exposed in such a course of training as is understood in England by 'the education of a gentleman.' The 'learning to fight for oneself,' he argues, implants an early habit of selfishness. With 'a pretty knack of Latin hexameters, and a decent smattering of Greek plays,' the neophyte has learned, from his forced attendance at chapel, 'to consider the religious service performed there as the vainest parade in the world.' He has learned to forget the gentle affections of home, and, under certain conditions, to despise his belongings. If naturally endowed with an open hand, he has learned to compete with associates infinitely wealthier than himself, to despise money on its own merits perhaps, but to respect it as a means to the questionable advantage of gaining admission to the company of those whose social positions may chance to be a source of envy to weaker minds. In return for the two thousand pounds or so which had been spent in acquiring 'the tone,' he brings George Brandon—who is certainly as black a sheep as any University can produce—abruptly away from his college, ruined in heart and principle; boasting a small quantity of classics and mathematics; with an utter contempt for his inferiors, an enmity against his equals; a fulsome desire to be reckoned one of those above him, and to copy the extravagances incident to high position; an easy, confident address; sybarite habits, utter heartlessness, and tastes which must be gratified without scruple as to the means: 'pretty compensation,' writes the author, 'for all he had lost in gaining them.'